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Electricity

Summary:
In chapter 12 of Midnight Sun, Edward was so careful with Bella, not allowing himself to touch her in anyway, and when he did stroke her cheek at the doors of the gym, he'd regretted it. What if he wasn't so careful, allowing himself to let go and justify holding her hand in the dark biology room? This is what I think would've happened. (Warning: Midnight Sun spoilers)


Notes:
So, this is my take on what should've happened at the beginning of Chapter 12 in Midnight Sun. To me, Edward was being a little paranoid. I still love him though! So, if you haven't read Midnight Sun and don't want to read any of it to respect Stephenie, don't read this, because the italicized words are actual Midnight Sun excerpts.


1. Chapter 1

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1037   Review this Chapter

My hand moved toward her without my permission. Just to touch her hand, to hold it in the darkness. Would that be such a horrific mistake? If my skin bothered her, she only had to pull away…

Of course I would give her choice. And Bella didn’t seem to be uncomfortable with the proximity between us, which was encouraging. I took a deep breath as I acknowledged my hand going toward her, and consented. I was comforted by telling myself again that if my skin was uncomfortable to her, she only had to let go.

My eyes went between her hand and her face as I tenderly took her hand in mine, hoping it wouldn’t startle her. I held my breath, just waiting for her to find the feeling of my hard skin unpleasant and to take her hand out of my gentle grasp.

But she didn’t. Immediately after I’d put my hand on hers and enveloped it, she looked down at our hands, and gasped. But it was not a horrified gasp. Shocked, yes, but I could tell then in her expression that this was not uncomfortable to her; She liked it.

I knew the room was quiet, but I had to ask anyway. I moved my lips close to her ear, and tried to be quiet as to not attract attention.

“Is this alright?” I whispered as quietly as possible, but still making sure that only she could hear.

I pulled away, and Bella looked up at me. She didn’t hesitate when she smiled and nodded, indicating that she was alright with me holding her hand.

As long as it was alright with her, then I wouldn’t pull away, as I had last night, when she’d touched me, her fingers stroking the back of my hand…

I let out the breath I was holding, and smiled back, reveling in this new sensation between us.

Bella looked down at our hands once more. I adjusted them so our fingers were interlaced and our entwined hands settled comfortably between us.

As long as she was comfortable and content, then I was happy.

After I watched Bella for a few moments, and seeing the excitement and happiness in her eyes, I allowed myself to revel in the sensation of her touch. The warmth of her hand around mine was pure pleasure - unlike last night, when I was so afraid that she would find the feel of my skin so shocking that she would immediately pull away.

But the electricity between Bella and I was tangible - I could almost feel it, feel it like her warmth surrounding my hand and the entire right side of my body. I wondered if Bella could notice it, too. From the look in her eyes, I assumed she could, too.

As much I loved the feeling of holding her hand in mine, I was suddenly troubled. My hand was cold to her. While I was reveling the comforting warmth of her soft skin, her hand was being held by something as cold as ice, and as hard too. Bella showed no displeasure by me holding her hand, and had told me without words that it was alright, but I still fiercely wished that my hand was warmer for her.

Huh, I guess Jessica wasn’t lying, was she? I still can’t believe it though, why she even bothers… Mike Newton was thinking with disgust and jealousy.

I wasn’t going to listen to him, not now. So I tried fiercely to block him out, so annoyed with him I could hardly sit here without wanting to smack him.

Before I starting ignoring him, I saw Bella and I through his eyes. Bella looked content. It made up a very pretty picture. Even if it was seen through Mike and not someone like Angela, whose eyes and mind I could always count on when she was with Bella.

I focused on Bella again, and paid attention to little else but her the rest of the hour. The hour went by slowly, but not slowly enough. I wanted more time with her.

We sat like that the whole hour. Every once in a while, she would look up at me and see how relaxed my body was, just as hers was, and a shock would go through me - a jolt.

All too soon did Mr. Banner turn the lights back on, and the room returned to normal.

I slowly let go of Bella’s hand to stand, and she stood also. Getting unsteadily to her feet, she prepared to catch herself. I offered her my hand, and she took it without hesitation, and I marveled for the umpteenth time at her bravery.

“Thank you,” She said.

I smiled, “Shall we?” I motioned for her to take the lead.

Bella was quiet as we walked toward the gym. There was a crease in her forehead. This made me wonder if she could hear the whispers about us. Surely she wasn’t missing the stares - for this was obviously the first time we’d held hands through the halls and outside for everyone to see.

We stopped at the gym’s door, and Bella turned to face me. She didn’t speak. My hand let go of hers and lifted to her face, and again I had amazingly found justification in touching her. Ever so gently, as if Bella’s skin was made of the most fragile glass, my fingertips stroked her pink cheek, which heated with a blush as I touched it.

It was difficult to pull my hand back, to stop myself from moving closer to her than I already was. A thousand different possibilities ran through my mind in an instant - a thousand different ways to touch her. The tip of my finger tracing the shape of her lips. My palm cupping under her chin. Pulling the clip from her hair and letting it spill out across my hand. My arms winding around her waist, holding her against the length of my body.

I slowly dropped my hand, though. Bella needed to get to class. I turned and walked away, not being able to ignore the delightful, wonderful tingling sensation in my fingers, knowing I had not made a mistake, as I had once feared.